


Predator Complex

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Low Context Smut, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: Bloodhound returns from a hunt, and Wraith offers what they need.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	Predator Complex

**Author's Note:**

> Based off xuunies' work here (NSFW art at link): https://twitter.com/seinuux_/status/1284279040535343106

They were always like this after a hunt.

Wraith gasped as Bloodhound made quick work of her clothes, their mask already abandoned to the floor. The scent of iron and salt clung to their skin, but even if the blood was fresh, their skin was intact. She knew every scar like they were her own — the web-like threads of tissue spreading across Bloodhound’s face and down their throat, the heavy gouge from a Prowler’s claws along one shoulder, bits of shrapnel marking their body like constellations — each one treasured, worshipped, well-earned.

Getting them undressed was far more difficult with Bloodhound’s brand of a mouth leaving hot marks down her neck, but Wraith managed by feel, stripping away weathered canvas, tight valves and buckles scavenged from old tech. 

Their eyes were bloodshot, pupils blown, half from desire and half from exposure to the light. She glimpsed them only for a moment before Bloodhound claimed her mouth in a hard kiss, teeth scraping against her lower lip. They never bit hard enough to break the skin, but sometimes Wraith felt the urge trapped like tension in their jaw.

As the last of Bloodhound's gear hit the floor, they dragged her back, searching for the nearest level surface. It was an ancient but sturdy desk, steel creaking as Bloodhound hoisted themself onto it, taking Wraith with them. Half sprawled in Bloodhound's lap, she brought her legs up, bringing their hips together, and groaned the moment the two of them made contact.

Calloused palms found her breasts, traced the piercings there, learned their shape anew. Blunt nails left matching trails down Wraith's stomach, then gripped at her hips and thighs, pulling her into a slightly different position, one hand plunging between them.

Bloodhound's fingers explored her from entrance to clit in one firm stroke, leaving them slick to the knuckles. "So wet already."

Their voice was closer to a growl than speech, the low vibration sending an answering echo of pleasure through Wraith from head to toe.

"I knew you were coming back," she whispered.

That earned another messy kiss, Bloodhound muttering in Old Norse against her skin. Wraith couldn’t mistake the heat in their words — the one time she’d managed to retain and translate a phrase, the results had been so filthy her entire face turned red. Yet their fingers worked in controlled circles, teasing through parted labia and around her clit, enough for sparks of bliss, feeding the flame of need without ever quite catching alight.

"Don't _tease,"_ Wraith grit through clenched teeth.

Triumph shone sharp in their dark gaze. "Then _ask._ "

This was exactly how Bloodhound wanted her, surrendering everything but the primal urge to rut. Wraith was half a breath from simply grinding against their hand, so there was no point in hiding it. "Fuck me."

More a demand than a request, but her boldness was rewarded with a swift thrust of their fingers. Wraith swallowed a whimper, only for the sound to escape when Bloodhound's other hand seized the back of her neck, tilting her head to give them access to the line of her throat, mouth warm and wanting. She grasped for balance, literally held in the palm of their hand, clutching at one shoulder, fingers sinking into the tangle of Bloodhound's hair.

"Beautiful," they mumbled in English, every thrust seeking a sensitive spot deep inside her.

Wraith cried out as Bloodhound found their mark, fingers curling just so, and squeezed her eyes so tight she saw stars. Every burst of pleasure spilled into another and another; she felt the taut muscles of their forearm working with the rhythm, elbow wedged against the inside of her thigh. When their thumb started to circle her swollen clit, Wraith's hips jerked, desperate for the pressure, arching into it as best as she could.

Orgasm blotted out everything but the raw ecstasy electrifying her nerves, every ragged breath ending on a moan or gasp as she rode Bloodhound's hand, clawing at anywhere her hands could reach. Wraith slumped against their body, panting hard, only to tremble when the aftershocks made her tighten around their fingers all over again. When they pulled out, slow and sure, she couldn't help but curse at the emptiness.

"Not enough?" they asked. She managed to shake her head. "Me neither."

She ended up stomach-first on the nearby bed and Bloodhound was inside her again, deeper this time. Wraith moaned at the new angle, clenching around them, and Bloodhound's weight draped heavy against her back, hips seeking friction. Their breath quickened in her ear, one arm wrapped possessively around her ribs to keep their bodies close. With her face against the sheets, every moan was muffled, but there was just enough space between her hips and the bed to slip a hand between her own thighs.

Every time Bloodhound thrust, Wraith's clit met her palm, and even the ache of over-sensitivity wasn't enough to make her pull away. They were close — she could always tell — and it was so satisfying to hear all the rough sounds of pleasure wrenched from their throat, delighting in something so far away from fury. 

Her name escaped Bloodhound's lips as they hit their peak, and Wraith needed only a moment longer to do the same, stunned by bliss. The world came back to her in pieces — Bloodhound's mouth leaving soft kisses across her shoulders, the sheets bunched up under her knees, a little stiffness in one wrist — and Wraith urged them off of her with a light push.

Yet it was only so she had an excuse to face them, pressing a kiss to the steel bar that pierced their brow, then another to Bloodhound's lips. "Feeling better?"

Their stoic composure broke into a smile. "How can I not, with you?"

Wraith pushed her knee between theirs and snuggled close, face pressed against Bloodhound's chest. 

She fell asleep to the sound of her hunter's heart.

\--


End file.
